


Of Firsts and Lasts

by angelinaestrella



Category: The Walking Dead (TV)
Genre: Angst, Daryl is a hurt lamb, F/M, Lol jk it's daryl, S6 Finale Spoilers, Sex, Smut, slow burn?
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-12-10
Updated: 2016-12-10
Packaged: 2018-09-07 13:46:31
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,852
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8803192
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/angelinaestrella/pseuds/angelinaestrella
Summary: She loved him, but where did their story begin?





	

**Author's Note:**

> Cross posted to my tumblr: tumblr.com/thewalkingdead-ff  
> I have open requests :)

The first night you had slept together, it was a week after Merle’s death. Daryl had been hurt and almost broken. He needed to feel something, anything. He had taken you roughly, with little concern for you or your feelings. Bruises littered your neck and chest, serving as reminders of his lust. Carol never looked at you the same, almost saw it as a betrayal.

 

That night, after he finished, he cried in your arms. Bodies melded together perfectly. The lack of clothes paired with the lack of his walls for a night, as you whispered that he would be okay. That he could get over it. The next day, he had shut you out again, only speaking to you if you had to go out on runs. Despite the lack of communication, he cared for you. Shown through  his insistence to keep you by his side during supply runs or how he’d tense up whenever you talked to another man. He cared.

 

It wasn’t until the sickness broke out in the prison that Daryl visited you again. The deaths serving as a reminder that peace was an illusion and that everything could end any moment. He didn’t want to think of what would happen if you were among those dead. So, he took you slowly, noting each subtle hitch of your breath when he hit  _ that spot _ . Your profession of love had come out with your climax. Your voice so sure, it scared him. He had never been loved. Daryl simply kissed you, ignoring the tears falling from your face.

 

When the prison fell, he had thought he lost you. He wanted to search for you, he would have killed any walker in sight for you, but he knew better than that. Daryl had thought you were dead. He attempted to drown out his thoughts with the moonshine he and Beth had found, but that only made it worse, much worse. He didn’t sleep that night.

 

You were with Rick, Carl, and Michonne. Traveling the long road to Terminus, your thoughts plagued with Daryl. You knew he was alive, he had to be. A man like that didn’t just die. 

 

When Daryl found you, a man from his group had dragged you out of the truck you sat in, pinning to the floor. You hadn’t seen him yet. You struggled with the larger man, trying to kick him off of you and escape from his grasp. You looked to Rick, a gun against his head. You thought that this was how you would die.

 

When he saw the man above you, unbuckling his belt, he saw red. His rage was like no other. Daryl moved to the man, kicking him off of you. Rick used the distraction to tear the jugular out of the man’s throat, while Michonne moved the henchman’s gun to face his head and pulled the trigger. You sat up to see Daryl, throwing punch after punch at the portly man, until his knuckles bled and your assailant stopped moving. That’s when he turned to you, pulling you into a bone crushing hug and muttered, “I love you”.

 

When you were locked in the train car with Daryl, he held you while you silently wept over the events of the previous night. That day he vowed to always protect you.

 

After travelling to Virginia, the group lost hope. The deaths of so many members left a hole in the fabric that made up the group. Luckily, you had found a barn to stay in for the night. That night, Daryl wouldn’t let you go, fearing that you would leave him too, it couldn’t happen. The next day, you went out to search for food. So, you found solace in each other’s bodies, despite the danger of being vulnerable in the woods. Yo had needed it, he had needed it. 

 

The last time you had slept with him was the night after you had returned from your encounter with Dwight. Denise had died and Eugene was badly injured. You and him had basked in each other, taking nothing for granted. 

 

You had kissed him slowly, as if the world had slowed down just for the two of you. Your hands snakedinto his hair and brought him to you, while his hands planted themselves firmly at your hips, bringing them to meet his own. He had deepened the kiss, allowing his walls to fall. The kiss stayed slow, allowing the love you shared funnel into it.

 

Daryl’s hands rubbed small circles into your hip bones, while yours moved to the buttons of his shirt. Knowing your intentions, he moved to your sweatshirt, zipping it down ever so slowly. You slipped the flannel off of his body, revealing his bare chest. You shrugged your sweatshirt off and broke the kiss to tug the tank top off of you. Your mouth moved to his chest, kissing the scar there, while he buried his head in your hair and moved to unhook your bra. 

 

Taking the lead, Daryl gently pushed you away from him and kissed you again, this time your bare chests colliding. He began to walk forward, pushing you towards the bed. You both collapse into the mattress. Daryl moves his mouth, leaving sloppy kisses onto your neck and down to your chest, taking a nipple into his mouth and gently sucking. Your arms wrapped around his head with a moan and urging him to continue. He began his descent and kissed down your navel, tongue dipping in. His hands moved to your shorts and pulled them and your underwear down in one move, throwing them behind him.

 

His mouth met your core, licking a long stripe up before settling onto your clit. You couldn’t help the moans that tumbled out of your mouth. He brought a finger to your entrance and slowly pushed in, curling upwards. Your hands tangled in his hair and you let out a breathy moan. You felt that familiar knot in your stomach tightening, pushing his head down you wrapped your legs around his head. He entered another finger,moving them in in out rapidly while his tongue worked wonders. You saw stars and with a final moan, you came.

 

You sat up, urging him to stand at the edge of the bed. You breathed out that it was his turn to receive. Using his belt to pull him towards you, you quickly undid it, before pushing his pants down, then his boxers. His member stood proudly against his body, it was long and thick, leading to a patch of darker hair at the base.

 

Looking up at him, you grasped it in your hand, pumping slowly and he muttered out a gruff, “Stop teasing.” You obliged and took the tip into your mouth while pumping his cock. He let out a long, low groan and tangled his fingers into your hair, urging you to go deeper. You took him into your mouth farther in, until you could no longer take any more. His breathing grew ragged and heavy, before he pulled you off of him, commenting on how he didn’t want it to end yet.

 

You stood and took his calloused hand in yours and turned him around to give him a playful push with your shit eating grin. He chuckled and said, “C’mere.” You mounted his lap, allowing his cock to gather your arousal. You gasp and moan at the feeling of your clit rubbing against the tip of his manhood. You move your body down to meet his in another kiss. In this moment, nothing else matters except the two of you. You and Daryl, against the world.

 

You were ready for him and he was ready for you. You brought your hand to his cock before lifting your hips and settling onto it with a breathy moan of approval. You felt that pleasant burn of his cock filling you. Slowly, you began undulating your hips, rocking in back and forth motions while his hands gripped your ass. His soft pants and groans urged you to continue. You needed to show him that you loved him, that you two would be okay even in the uncertainty. 

 

Daryl’s hand trail from your ass to your hips, leaving goosebumps in their wake. He swiftly switches positions, his hips pinning yours into the mattress. He falls into an easy rhythm, each thrust meeting your hips halfway. He watches you with deep blue eyes that sear with lazy passion, and with every short, breathless moan you give, his pace increases. 

 

Your legs move to lock behind his back, forcing his member to hit deeper in your core. Your nails scrape his back, leaving small welts. Daryl released another loud moan from the slight pain. Your hands clutch at his skin, holding tightly as if you never wanted to let him go. 

 

You feel that incredible burn in deep in your gut as your pleasure is reaching its peak. You both want release and the freedom. Freedom from the pain and suffering. His hips meld to yours, only to pull out and slam back in causing you to moan loudly and grip his hair. Daryl growled at this, picking up his speed and attacking your neck with wet, open mouthed kisses. The combination of his hips and his kisses became too much and you come with a fierce moan. The pleasure you feel is wonton, and for a moment you forget the carnage of the world. You feel unadulterated happiness as liquid fire courses through your veins like tumultuous rivers. Daryl’s name is yelled as he snaps his hips one last time, biting your neck. He releases a loud groan as his seed fills you. 

 

Pulling out, he lays next to you on the bed. Pulling you into his chest so that your head is buried in the crook of your neck and legs intertwined. Your head turned up to look at him, basking in the glow of his orgasm. He looked so beautiful like this, you thought. Your hands snaked around his torso, hugging him tightly while you softly declared your love to him. Daryl placed a single kiss onto your forehead, you knew he felt the same. For a single night, you were at peace.

 

The last time you told him you loved him, he had hopped onto his motorcycle and left Alexandria to find Dwight. You had kissed him deeply, cradling his head in your hands before telling him to be careful and that you loved him. He had only kissed your forehead before stomping out of your shared home. 

 

The last time you saw Daryl, he was being thrown in the back of a van by Negan’s followers. His eyes had met your own and you could see the regret in his eyes - the sadness. You knew he blamed himself for Glenn’s death. You felt helpless that you couldn’t be there for him, hold him or comfort him. To tell him that it wasn’t his fault.

 

The last time you saw Daryl, you decided that you would get him back, no matter the cost.

  
  
  
  
  



End file.
